


Listening In (from the other end of the galaxy)

by FreakCityPrincess



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character-centric Plot, F/M, In which I attempt to explore the strained relationship between Cassian and Draven, Internal Conflict, Moral Ambiguity, Mutual Pining, Post-Battle of Scarif, Slow Burn, survivor's guilt, with some light moments thrown in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakCityPrincess/pseuds/FreakCityPrincess
Summary: Far removed from the greater galactic conflict are some of the Rebellion's best kept secrets. Intelligence networks than run deep into the fabrics of resilient worlds; unnamed agents who supply data and tips masked as signals and codes; people without faces propelling the war effort from beyond the front lines.Believed to have perished on Scarif, Cassian Andor has become one such asset to the rebellion. For him, there will be no returning home. No more assignments on the ground.Call it Jyn Erso's influence, but he no longer finds it easy to blindly follow orders.
Relationships: Cassian Andor & Davits Draven, Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 17
Kudos: 34





	Listening In (from the other end of the galaxy)

**Author's Note:**

> *crawls back into fandom out of a dark pit* h-hello.
>
>> I have a lot of apologizing to do for my year-long hiatus, and I know a _new_ chaptered fic is probably not the best way to go about it when there are so many I've yet to complete, but _hear me out okay owo_
>> 
>> I love rebelcaptain too much to leave this fandom and all my unfinished works, so I'm back, and those works as well as this one _will_ update. Life kind of gets in the way, but I want to assure you that I have not, will not, abandon my works in this fandom. 
> 
> **Enjoy!**

Mosuk VI was the home of a desolate, crumbling civilization that was rich before the Empire got their hands on it. The planet was known for its long-standing cultural practices and vibrant, beaming history. There were stories scattered across the surfaces of the Outer Rim, stories of a grand and illustrious past with mythology woven in, about Mosuk and its rices and its people.

Looking around now, at the demolished monuments and Imperial propaganda lining every street corner, it was hard to believe those stories at all.

Slipping into a red-brown, dusty alley under the shadows of the hot afternoon, Jyn took the few steps to the greasy side-door of a yellowed building and huffed when she closed the door behind her. She wasn't complaining- really, she wasn't- but the heat on this infernal Empire-run planet was starting to get the better of her.

A lean silhouette moved off the wall and approached her. She hid a hand casually behind her back and turned to meet the figure.

"You have it," Cassian's tone was weary, because even _he_ was sick of this miserable place, but the barest hint of a smile crinkled the corners of his eyes and damn it if that didn't lift her spirits just a little.

She jutted her chin forward. "I didn't say that."

He stopped before her, crossing his arms. Tried to look exasperated but fell short, because that wasn't the way he felt around her, mostly. "We have to channel in at 0300 hours, Jyn. That's the appointed time for delivering this intel."

Jyn cast a glance at the chrono on the wall. They had half an hour.

"It's terrible outside," she said.

Cassian's nose wrinkled almost of its own accord. "In what sense do you mean?"

Of course. There were a lot of things that were less than rosy about Mosuk VI.

"It's too kriffing hot," she specified.

"So you want to shower first?" His eyebrow arched, tone chiding. There was really only one solution to the problem of climate, and a pathetic, short-term one at that, which Cassian had long since decided wasn't enough of a 'solution' for him and he'd rather not resort to it every waking, sweltering hour. Jyn stubbornly held onto the ideal that even a short-lived answer was better than nothing. "Really? Just about another hour more, Jyn."

"I endured the whole afternoon. Everyone breaks at some point." Still, Jyn pressed the stolen datachip to his palm as she paused on the walk past him. "And one of your miraculous massages too, if you don't mind. I can't deal with their bullshit in this state."

His lips may have quirked up in a smile, may have pressed in a thin line from subtly rolling his eyes. But he ducked his head under the low doorway and followed her into the heart of their ramshackle living quarters- the entirety of the small building, purchased at only sixty credits and worth even less for its amenities- where Jyn dropped her first outer layer carelessly. The layer didn't serve well in the heat, but without its protection her skin would stick with poisonous industrial dust that would take weeks to wash off, or turn it a different colour.

Jyn was out of the 'fresher in five minutes, wringing wet hair that she'd cut short without hesitation the moment they'd moved in. The dust was difficult to remove from anything longer.

He'd been a little (foolishly) disappointed when her look had changed, but it was only a matter of time before he got used to it- she was still the same person, the same fiery embodiment of rebellion he'd followed to Scarif- and there started being something...intriguing (he was being ridiculous, he knew it, but he couldn't help these private thoughts) about the way her short hair matched her sharp edges.

"Time?" she asked, hitting the edge of the creaky bunk. The building had come with three bunks; hers was on the first floor, his on the highest and second, and a free one they kept on the ground floor for when they discussed intel, turned on the radio system.

"Only thirty minutes."

"Plenty of time."

He could argue- but he'd rather not, although their timing on the radio had to be nothing less than perfect or they'd miss it. The Alliance didn't wait. From the snippets he'd caught, he didn't think they could afford waiting around, these days. Jyn was fully aware of this reality. He trusted her timing.

He took the spot beside her and worked under her direction, rubbing his palms and thumbs in tight circles where she wanted them, easing out the knots in her back through her thin shirt, and ignoring the slight thrill that went through his being every time she untensed or expressed contentment with his work, with low hums or quiet moans.

This kind of contact had felt too dangerous, too close to something intimate up till two months ago. Now, they'd established it as a necessity (bordering on luxury), because he'd needed it badly since his fall on Scarif, and she wasn't averse to having the favor returned. It had been a process, it had taken time, but they were in a comfortable juncture now.

At 0255 hours, he didn't have to ask before leaving for their heavy, antiquelike wired radio system and tuning into the frequencies only rebel spies knew to find.

While he read their findings in encrypted tidbits, Jyn remained silent and listened for inconsistencies, or a live reply from the other end, which they could expect sometimes, but less now that the Alliance was on the run. While he read, almost subconsciously she reached around his back to knead the pressure off his shoulders.

_She was hauled back by the arm before she could make the short lunge to Krennic's body, finger curled inside the trigger guard, and she would be angry if she wasn't tired already. So tired, the exhaustion of a life lived on the run coming back to her and blurring the edges of her earlier exhilaration. Even in her diminishing fury, the intent directed at the man in white, it felt good to lean against Cassian. The top of the tower was cold and alight with the fumes of starfighters. His breath, his body, was warm._

_"Leave it," he said, softly but with finality. "Leave it, Jyn."_

_She could already feel the end- for her, for them- nearing; it was inexplicable but it felt like a premonition. That was why, maybe, she didn't fight him. Didn't go back to finish the man who'd haunted her dreams for a lifetime._

_She clung to Cassian as tightly as he clung to her on the way down, in shifting confines of darkness and light that took an eternity to shudder to a stop._

"You're not making my job any easier, Tee," Jyn grit out, hydrospanner between her teeth, elbows deep in the greasy thrusters of the scrap pile they generously called a ship. The words came out muffled and not as pointedly as she would've liked, so the astromech droid beeped and whistled the same set of binary again.

It insistently bumped the wide metal opening she was digging inside, and she pulled out again to glare at it.

"We don't need a _neat_ job, we need a quick one. To fix this trash can and get off-world as soon as Cassian gets back. Alright?"

The droid beeped and whistled something in protest.

Jyn sighed, pulling the hydrospanner from between her folded lips with greasy fingers. Javra-II's sun was getting to her, and she could feel cold sweat trickling down her forehead, pooling in her eyelids, drenching her chest. "I can't understand you."

TM-12 beeped something again, before picking up a melder from her toolbox and rolling over to the other side of the ship.

"A quick job, okay?" she called around the side, in case the little droid hadn't been paying attention or, as was likely the case, completely dismissing her input.

Jyn was about to dive back into the dark grease-lined insides of the thruster when she caught the sound of familiar footsteps.

"I think he's starting to like you," said Cassian easily, settling against the body of the ship to her left.

She darted a glance they way he'd come. "No chase? No 'troopers?"

Cassian crouched down beside her, plucking the spanner from her hand. "When _I_ steal something, _novia,_ I disrupt as few things as possible."

Grateful as she was for the extra hands, she didn't even try to cover up a snort.

"Low blow to insult me in your native language, Andor."

"Wasn't an insult," came Cassian's unconcerned reply as he took her place, gently edging her aside, leaned inside, and picked out a faulty heating panel _without getting grease on his shirt._ "It's better to attend to these individually. Save yourself some..." He glanced sideways at her, bathed in congealing liquid and sweat, hardly concealing his amusement. "Trouble."

Jyn shoved him gently with her shoulder. "I didn't do that because I have no idea how to install them again."

_"Eres una mala mecanica."_

She nudged him roughly. " _Stop."_

TM-12 came beeping urgently around the corner.

"No hurry," Cassian told the droid. "New plan. We have some time to fix this up neatly, but we have to leave by nightfall."

The droid clipped some binary in indignation.

Cassian laughed quietly. "Don't blame Jyn. It's just what I told her in the morning."

More beeps.

His smile grew into something deeply satisfied, smug even. "That's not nice, Tee, you shouldn't pick a favourite."

Jyn cleared her throat. "Don't want to interrupt this heartfelt reunion, but we still have a ship to fix."

TM-12 beeped something obscene at her and whirled around the side of the ship again.

Cassian watched the little astromech go almost fondly. They'd found its parts outside of Mosuk's civilian prison, a poor person's droid, scrapped and discarded once its owner had been taken to serve his sentence. Convinced that having a droid of their own would make their lives easier, Cassian had gathered what he could and got the rest off the markets of different worlds, working in the night when they weren't looking for information to send back to the Alliance. They went wherever the Alliance told them they needed to be. They hadn't been asked home yet, even though they finally had the means of hyperspace travel, and Jyn had a pretty good idea it was Draven's plan. _They can't risk giving away their location,_ Cassian answered quietly, every time she brought up the question. _And we can help the rebellion this way. It's just sending over intel for now, but we'll be running real missions soon. Draven wouldn't waste the covers I have._

Jyn was growing restless. It had been four and a half standard months.

Cassian wasn't doing as well as he pretended, either. He didn't feel the work they were doing was the best use the rebellion had of them; but then again, only Draven knew they weren't the freelance agents they were operating under the pretense of.

As far as the rest of the Alliance was concerned, there wasn't much you could get done through a dead man.

Still, he was inclined to believe they hadn't survived Scarif for nothing.

Cassian pulled back from the thruster he was attending to, wiping grease on his trousers.

She quirked an eyebrow at his hands, stained yellow and oily like hers.

He looked down at them again and back at her, a quiet laugh escaping his lips. "It's still not as bad as yours," he pointed out, the corners around his eyes crinkling.

Jyn treated him to a gentle shove. "Please, it's all over your face."

His brow creased, slightly. "Wait, really?"

There was enough distance between them to make out the genuine confusion in his features, and the fleeting moment of surprise when she reached out and pulled his face forward, fingers streaking swift lines of grease along his cheeks.

By the time he jerked back, his face was already smeared and he looked so ridiculous that Jyn didn't even bother covering up her laughter.

Cassian scowled. "Very mature," he commented, but even between her cackles and now aching ribs, she could detect amusement in his tone.

Jyn forced her laughter to a stop enough to choke out some words. "You look like you-"

Cassian swiped his own fingers across her face.

"Say again?"

The grease in her hair, cheeks and down the front of her shirt smelt fresh and toxic, but she really couldn't bring herself to care about how ridiculous she looked at the moment, because he looked just as bad.

TM-12 whirled around the corner beeping panicked beeps.

Cassian glanced the droid's way, wiping his forehead with the back of a shirtsleeve. He was failing terribly at keeping the grin off his face. "It's nothing, Tee, we're fine."

The droid stopped in its tracks and said something angry.

Cassian seemed to snap out of it. "Fire? Which engine?"

Whistles.

He pushed himself to his feet－ _"Alright, I'm coming, I'm_ _following_ _you, Tee."_ －and jogged after the droid, rolling a sleeve further up as he went. Jyn gave his retreating form an appreciative glance.

The fall from the Data Tower had broken his back, and the only treatment he'd got for it was three days in a bacta tank made affordable by their snitched Imperial credits. He took his rest when he could, even if it wasn't often enough to her liking, and the past week he had seemed to be...recovering. _Really_ recovering.

It wasn't to say that he wouldn't still abuse his body, push it past its limits in the name of the cause. They simply didn't have enough to contribute to the cause for him to take it to that level.

 _Yet_.

Again she told herself that they hadn't survived for nothing.

* * *

_COVER ART - 1_  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You can view more of my art on my tumblr, @hoofgirl.
> 
> Thank you!


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